


(Not) the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by strangethewriter



Series: 'Tis the Season [2]
Category: Shatter Me Series - Tahereh Mafi
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Modern AU, holiday au, they are in love your honor, they have a habit of kissing on inappropriate places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangethewriter/pseuds/strangethewriter
Summary: Office Holiday AU (Part 2)!“And it looks like Santa’s helper is going to be...” Brendan says, digging his hand in the bowl and taking out a piece of paper. “Juliette.”“I rather die,” I say.Juliette gets picked to act as Santa's helper on their Holiday fundraiser, Aaron volunteers as Santa to make her feel better. It goes as well as you can imagine.
Relationships: Juliette Ferrars/Aaron Warner
Series: 'Tis the Season [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066715
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	(Not) the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little fic to get into the Holiday spirit. Enjoy!

“ And it looks like Santa’s helper is going to be... ”  Brendan says, digging his hand in the bowl and taking out a piece of paper. “Juliette.”

“I rather die,” I say.

Around me, everyone else in the meeting room lets out a breath of relief because they will not be forced to bear this particular Christmas fundraising event. Unless they get picked out as Santa of course. 

Every year our non-profit does a bunch of fundraising events during the holiday season. It’s a great way to get money for many of our community projects, and many of them, while exhausting, are not terrible to organize and attend to, they are fun even. All with the exception of the mall Santa meet-and-greet. And because we all hate it so much, every year we raffle the two people who do it. The events we do only require a couple of people each so we take turns putting them together, but to be honest I rather do those other events by myself a hundred times than do the meet-and-greet.

“It’s not  _ that  _ bad,” says Alia, looking at me with pitiful eyes.

“No, it’s not bad,” Kenji responds. “It’s terrible.”

“Think of the children,” Brendan says to me.

I drop the manila envelope I’d been reading from into the table in front of me and deflate against my chair. “I  _ am  _ thinking of them. The children are fine, really. It’s the parents who are the problem.”

“Yes, the parents get on my nerves,” Ian agrees. “Like how do they even have time to get mad at something? The whole interaction lasts like two minutes.”

“Don’t forget about Linda,” Lily chimes in. “Linda is horrible.”

“The mall manager?” Alia asks.

Yes, the mall manager. She lets us use her “Santa’s Workshop” set up on the mall for our charity event and, in return, we bring paying customers to the stores with our event promotions and let her mistreat us for a couple of hours.

“Agree,” Kenji says, nodding at Alia. “Linda’s a bitch.”

“Language,” Castle scolds as he walks into the room.

Kenji looks up to him, an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry, boss. Great timing, by the way.”

“What’s all the ruckus about?” he asks, looking around the room.

Brendan waves the paper with my name still on his hand around. “We’re picking Santa and Santa’s helper for the fundraiser. Juliette got picked as the elf.”

“Ah,” Castle says, turning to look at me. “Sorry about that, Miss Ferrars. I know it’s a rough one.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Can’t be as bad as last time I did it, though.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Kenji says at the same time as Alia asks, “What happened last time?”

“Well,” I say. “It was going as it goes you know, a lot of parents pissed about waiting in line and their kids not getting as much time with Santa as other kids did and yadda-yadda. But then this one man who was well into his forties thought it would be cute to ask if _he_ could have a picture with _me_ on his lap. And his wife was _right there_ because of course she was, and she decided to go off on me—because obviously it was _my_ fault and my dress was too short—and she proceeded to call me a slut in front of a bunch of four-year-olds.”

“Oof,” Lily says. “Did you report that at least?”

I shake my head no. “Was too busy crying in the bathroom.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah,” I exhale, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Anyway, when is this again?”

“Saturday.” Castle answers. 

“Oh, come on,” I groan. 

“What?” Kenji asks.

“Saturday is Aaron’s and I’s anniversary.”

“Aww,” Alia says, clapping her hands together. “Sorry though.”

Then I see it. The moment realization hits Kenji.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims, his eyes wide as plates. “You did leave the Christmas party together last year, you lying—”

“ _ Kenji, _ ” Castle cuts him off.

I smile innocently at him. 

Almost one year ago, at our office’s holiday party, Aaron and I kissed. We somehow ended up on the balcony by ourselves, and I was feeling a little brave and recklessly stupid, so I leaned in to kiss him under what I thought to be mistletoe. As it turns out, I know jack-shit about plants because it wasn’t, in fact, mistletoe. But before I could ask for the earth to swallow me to save me from the embarrassment he kissed me back. We were about to leave together, but I told him about the bet going around the office about us, which was more specifically about when we were going to “finally sleep together,” and convinced him to keep us a secret for a little just to mess with everyone. He left the party after saying that he just came around to say hello because he couldn’t stay and waited outside for me for a few minutes while I made an excuse to leave early. 

I didn’t tell Kenji about us until early April when I was planning Aaron’s birthday surprise and had to break it to him. He probably suspected for a while before that but he couldn’t prove anything. I eventually told everyone else the truth but made them promise not to tell Kenji that we had actually been dating since last December. I wasn’t trying to be mean or petty about it, I just wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out. Honestly, I’m proud we even kept the secret going for so long, he’s usually very intuitive about this sort of stuff. 

But either way, Aaron and I have been dating for almost a year now. Living together for a little over four months. 

Needless to say, I was hopelessly in love with him. 

“Can’t believe you would lie to me about something like that,” Kenji says. 

“And you deserved it,” I say crossing my arms and leaning forward towards him. “Can’t believe  _ you _ put money on when Aaron and I would get together, you freak.”

_ Get together _ was, of course, a sugar-coated way to put it. As far as I know, the bet only required us to have sex, but I wasn’t about to say that in front of Castle. He has enough to deal with everything else going on in this office and doesn’t need to know our bullshit too. 

“Hey,” he says, waving his finger at everyone else in the room. “ _ Everyone  _ did.”

“That doesn’t make it better, Kenji.”

“I want my money,” he says looking at everyone else. 

“You’re not getting anything, Kishimoto,” sighs Brendan.

“The level—the layers!—of betrayal...unbelievable.”

Aaron walks into the meeting room then, and seeing him almost makes me feel better about the Santa situation. He takes a looks at Kenji, he must’ve heard what he said before coming in, and then turns to me and asks, “Do I want to know?”

I shake my head no, and there must be some degree of despair on my face as I do because after a few seconds of staring at me he frowns and asks, “Everything okay, love?”

“I have to be Santa’s helper this Saturday for the fundraiser.”

“Will it interfere with dinner plans?” he asks, taking the seat next to me and putting his hand on my knee.

“The event only goes ‘till five,” says Brendan.

I shrug and ask, “Can we do Sunday instead?” 

He nods. 

Kenji huffs, still indignant over us lying. 

“Okay, what is wrong with him?” Aaron asks.

“He figured out you guys were lying about when you started dating,” Lily says.

“Oh, and it only took you nine months more than everyone else, Kishimoto, congratulations,” Aaron says in a fake congratulatory tone.

“Wait, did everyone else know?” Kenji asks, his face full of almost-genuine hurt.

We all nod.

“Unbelievable,” he says, standing up, gathering his papers, and leaving the meeting roof still muttering under his breath. 

“Wait, we haven’t decided who Santa is going to be!” Brendan calls after him.

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says, resigned. 

I turn to face him. “I appreciate the gesture but you really don’t have to. Also, you hate dressing up.”

“It’s okay, at least that way we’ll spend our anniversary together.”

I smile up to him. “Cute,” I say. 

“Foolish, I’d say, but sure, also cute,” Ian says on the other side of the table. “Thank you for taking one for the team, man.”

“I’m not doing this for any of you,” Aaron answers.

“We know.”

***

So that’s how Aaron and I ended up dressed up as Santa and an elf, respectively, at the mall on our first anniversary. We were on break now after three hours of asking kids what they wanted for Christmas, taking pictures with them and their families, and listening to white mothers’ passive-aggressive comments. Also, three hours of me watching moms—and some dads—openly flirt with my boyfriend. 

I was used to him attracting that kind of attention, and, in all honesty, it didn’t bother me. One, because he never reciprocates it—sometimes I think he doesn’t even notice it—and two, it would be fruitless to get upset over it. What can I say? It’s not his fault that he’s the most beautiful man most of us have ever seen. Most of the time it’s just funny to see people trip over themselves trying to get his attention, but right now it was just a little weird considering the fact that most people here were at least ten years older than us, and also the fact that he is dressed as literal Santa Claus. White beard, fake belly, grandpa glasses and all. You could tell, of course, that under all of that laid a very attractive guy, but it didn’t make it less weird.

I hand him a cup of coffee from the pot that Linda left for us in the breakroom as he removes his fake beard and glasses. The coffee is now, of course, lukewarm, but there’s nothing else to eat or drink here and I’m not about to venture into the shopping mall’s food court.

“Having fun?” I ask as he reaches to take the cup from my hand.

“This beard is going to be the death of me. And if Linda tells me to ‘ho ho ho’ one more time I’m going to do something very unpleasant for all of us.”

I laugh. “I told you not to come, I knew you’d hate this,” I say, flicking some of the fake snow off his chest. 

“We all have to do it someday, at least I get to do it with you.”

I shake my head at him. “Not you. Brendan told me yesterday that they secretly don’t put your name on the draft for this event cause they think you’d be terrible at this and that you are going to get us all banned from the mall. Kenji even texted me this morning saying ‘make sure he doesn’t murder anyone, that’d be a downer on Christmas’,” I say, taking my phone out of the inside pocket of my costume and showing him so he can read the text off my screen. 

He rolls his eyes. “I think I’m doing just fine, actually. Haven’t made anyone cry.”

“Well, it’s only 1 pm.”

He shakes his head at me taking a sip from his paper cup. He grimaces at the taste, “This is terrible,” he says. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s yesterday’s coffee, Linda doesn’t give us her best stuff.”

At that, he walks over to the trashcan and unceremoniously lets the paper cup fall into it. He turns around and goes to sit on the couch, gesturing at me to sit next to him. I join him and lean my head against his shoulder, the little bell hanging at the end of my head tingling as I do. 

“Children are incredibly strange,” he says, pensively. 

“They are,” I agree. “What are they asking for nowadays?”

After the kids tell Santa (Aaron) what they want for Christmas, and while the rest of the family comes in for the picture, he discretely writes it down on a piece of paper to pass it off to the parents as I distract the kids. Perhaps not the best technique, but it works well enough.

He runs a hand through my hair, his finger interlocking with the strands. “Video games mostly, things I’ve never heard of. Something about a punk on the internet?” he says. “A girl asked for a hunting knife.”

“Good for her,” I say, nuzzling further into his body. After a few minutes of being quiet I say, “I have to say it hasn’t been too bad this year. But I don’t know why this is so exhausting. It’s just taking a picture and saying ‘thanks, that will be 20 dollars!’ and yet.”

“Might be the humiliation that comes from having to look like this,” he says. “There’s no way I look enough like Santa to pull it off.”

“No. But most of your face is covered anyways,” I say. “I don’t even mind the costume that much, to be honest.”

“No, you look good,” he says and gestures at himself. “Me, on the other hand.”

“I think a lot of people would beg to differ,” I laugh.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh please,” I say, sitting up straight to look him in the eye. “You’re going to tell me you haven’t noticed everyone making eyes at you.”

He narrows his eyes. “They are not.”

“They are.”

“Well,” he says. “I can’t say I noticed. I blocked out that kind of behavior years ago, it took too much energy to simply be aware of it.”

“Wow,” I say, a shocked laugh coming out of me. “I don’t know what’s more impressive. That you actually managed to completely ignore it or that you have so many people falling in love with you that that was even required in the first place.”

He sighs. “Don’t be jealous, love. You know you are the only one in my heart.”

“I do know,” I say, placing a small kiss on his lips. “And I’m not jealous. It is genuinely quite entertaining to see.”

“It’s not entertaining,” he grunts. “It’s annoying.”

I hum in response. “Must be hard being so beautiful,” I say. 

“You’re one to talk,” he says, pulling me into his lap. “Acting like you’re not the most beautiful woman everywhere you go.”

I don’t have time to respond because his lips are on mine, slowly trying to nudge me open.

“Aaron,” I scold without much real intention behind him. “Someone could come in.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know...children? Linda coming to yell at us to go back out there, probably.”

“We have ten minutes left,” he says, reaching for me again. 

I lean back, forcing myself away from him. “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” I say, putting my finger on his lips to stop him. He tries to bite it. I steal it back. “Seriously.”

He sighs, letting himself fall against the back of the couch. “Fine,” he says, dropping his hands on my knees, slowly roaming up and down my thighs.

I shake my head laughing. I’m about to say something when my eyes find his and I forget my name. I could get lost in the forest of his green eyes and I wouldn’t mind. I’d live there happily for the rest of my life. I trace the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his nose, back to his cheek. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against my hand, a dimple appearing on his face. 

My heart is racing, suddenly too big to fit on my chest. 

It’s incredible, I think, how much I love him. How at peace he makes me feel. 

I, despite my best intentions just a few moments ago, lean towards him and whisper, “Maybe just one kiss.”

***

Aaron’s putting the rest of his Santa costume back on before going back to the event as I watch him. When he slips the glasses on I say, “You know, I think I’m starting to see the appeal.”

He glares down at me. “Love,” he warns. “Don’t.”

“Seriously,” I say not seriously as I reach out to him and stroke his fake bear. “Maybe you should let your beard grow out.”

“I will not be doing that,” he says, matter-of-factly.

I snort. “I’m just saying...I could get into it.”

And suddenly I’m against the wall, Aaron’s knee in between my legs. I gasp, surprised. 

“Yeah?” he asks, his hand spreading along my throat. 

I know he knows I’m full of shit because of the grin on his face. I try my best to give him an angry stare, but he just chuckles at me, pulls down his fake beard, and bends down to kiss me. This time I don’t resist. As soon as his lips touch mine my arms are wrapped around his neck. A wave of sensation envelops me. A warm, intoxicating feeling that I can’t seem to get enough of, no matter how many times we do this. He tastes like mint and smells like gardenias—a smell not even this old, dusty suit can hide. His hands follow a trail down my body until they reach the end of my dress. When he does, he bunches the material into his hands, inching it higher and higher up my body. At that moment, I don’t care about the cheap material of his costume chafing against my skin. Or the synthetic hair of his beard tickling my neck. Not even about his glasses digging into my face or his fake, lumpy belly sitting awkwardly in my stomach. In fact, I’m so busy not caring, that I don’t process a tiny voice outside the door saying “I swear I saw them go in there.” And we’re so busy not caring about anything other than losing ourselves in each other’s mouth that we don’t stop until after the door bursts open revealing three small kids on the other side.

We break apart in a second, jumping a few feet apart from each other. I turn to look at Aaron, whose beard is somehow in the correct place again, and then back to the kids, and by the look on their faces I know they just saw Santa with his hands up my dress. 

“Hey, kids,” I squeal. I clear my throat, trying to return my voice to normal. “What are you guys doing here? Your parents must be worried.”

One of the two girls, a small blond girl with pigtails and a Christmas sweater, looks at Aaron. Then me. Squints. “You’re  _ not  _ Mrs. Claus,” she says accusatively. 

The other girl, a slightly smaller girl with dark hair and dark eyes, jumps in with, “Are you cheating on Mrs. Claus, Santa?”

_ Fuck my entire life.  _

“When my dad cheated on my mom they got a divorce,” says the boy. “Are you going to get a divorce too?”

My mouth drops open. “No, that’s not—” I try to say.

“We saw you kissing,” the girl with the pigtails says. 

“We did,” confirms the boy.

Aaron steps forward then, kneeling in front of the kids to be at eye level. He gestures at them to come forward. When they do, he says, “Can I tell you guys a secret?”

All the kids nod excitedly, eager to hear anything from Santa I suppose.

“Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

They look at him, then at me, then nod. “We promise,” says the dark-haired girl.

“The truth is,” he says, pulling down his fake beard. The kids gasp. “Is that I’m not Santa. I’m...his nephew.”

_ Jesus Christ.  _

“What?” asks the blonde girl. 

“Santa has nephews?” asks the boy.

“Oh yes,” responds Aaron. “Tons of nephews. We’re just not usually at these events. What happened is that Santa woke up feeling really sick this morning. He would’ve hated to disappoint you, so he called me to ask if I could cover for him today.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well,” Aaron sighs. “You guys are old and smart enough to understand that sometimes people need to take a day off and take care of themselves, right?” he asks. When the kids nod he continues, “There’s a lot of kids today here who are smaller and they wouldn’t understand why Santa couldn’t show up today and they would’ve been really upset. So instead of canceling the event, he asked me to come so I could ask you guys what it is that you want for Christmas and pass along all your names to him.”

“He couldn’t just come another day?” he asks.

“He’s all booked,” Aaron says, deadpanned.

“Who is that then?” asks the blond girl pointing at me.

“That’s...my girlfriend Juliette,” Aaron says. “She also works with all of us in the North Pole.”

I wave at them when they turn to look at me. “Hi.”

“Do you love her?” the boy asks.

“I do,” he responds a little flustered. 

“We’re really sorry about lying, kids,” I say, my heart still racing. “We just wanted you guys to have a good time today.”

“We understand,” says the dark haired-girl shyly.

“Thank you, guys,” Aaron tells them.

“We’ll make sure to tell Santa that you’ve been extra good this year,” I jump in.

At that, the kids give us excited smiles jumping on their spots.

“You promise to keep our little secret, then?”

They nod in unison.

“Well, we should go find your parents then, they must be looking for you,” I say.

“Oh don’t worry,” responds the blond girl. “We know where they are.”

And before we can say anything else, they run out the door shutting it behind them. 

The room is dead quiet for a few seconds, then Aaron gets up from the floor, turning around to face me when the door barges open again. We both jump, startled. Now Linda is the one standing at the entrance. Her short, blond hair bounces around her small face when she shakes her head at us. “What are you two still doing here?” she scolds. “You were supposed to be back out there two minutes ago!”

“We were o—”

“No excuses!” she yells. “I want you both back at the workshop in thirty seconds!”

And then, just as suddenly as she came, she leaves.

“Well,” Aaron says. “You were right about the two people who might come in here.”

I groan, adjusting my hat defeatedly. “Let’s just get this over with.”

***

I kick my shoes off and let myself fall into the bed the moment we make it back to our place. I’m thankful to at least be wearing normal clothes again, but I’m exhausted. 

“We’re going to hell for doing that, Aaron,” I say, still wanting to do because of what transpired earlier. 

“Hell might be pushing it, love,” he says. “We might end up on the naughty list, though.”

I throw a pillow at him. “Don’t joke about it. It was so embarrassing. Christmas is cursed, I embarrass myself every time. Do you know how close we were to those kids thinking I’m a homewrecker?”

Aaron kneels at the edge of the bed, taking my ankles into his hands and pulling me towards him. He leans down, placing his hands on either side of my face so he hovers over me, “They don’t think that.”

“But they could’ve.”

“It’s okay, love,” he whispers. “It all worked out at the end.”

I run my hands down my face and sigh. “Thank you,” I say. “For lying to those kids, I mean. Even though that feels weird to say.”

He kisses me once, softly. 

“I’m going to run a bath,” he says. “Want to join me?”

I smile and nod. He kisses me again before removing himself from me and heading towards the bathroom. When he disappears from my view, I scramble up and pull out a box from under the bed. I open it, taking out a small mistletoe plant I hid in there last night. I get up from the floor and follow Aaron into our bathroom. He is kneeling in front of the tub, his hand testing the temperature of the water. I tap his shoulder and when he turns around to look at me I point up to where I’m holding the mistletoe over our heads. 

“Actual mistletoe this time,” I say.

He laughs, pulling me down to him. 

“I love you,” he says against my lips. “So much.”

“I love you,” I say back. “Happy one year.”

“Happy one year, love.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! If you celebrate Hanukkah, hope you had a lovely time too! If you don't celebrate anything, well, hope you're enjoying the fact that this damn year is almost over.  
> I hope you all are staying safe and healthy. After this mess of a year I just wanted to write something silly and happy so this came out. Hope this cheers you guys up a little bit <3


End file.
